


Telephone

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Series: Giving Themselves [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Loves, Hannibal's youth, M/M, Will's youth, long telephone calls that last all night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8132981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: Picking up immediately after "Uninhibited", Hannibal calls Will and the two have an all-night telephone call.  Stories about first loves, food and more and the two grow closer together. Part of the Giving Themselves Completely series a season 1 AU where Will and Hannibal begin to date after the Tobias Budge incident.  They are not yet dating here, but are stumbling toward it awkwardly.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Llewcie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie/gifts).



> From a prompt (sort of) by the sweet [Llewcie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie/pseuds/Llewcie) who had mentioned in the comments of "Uninhibited": _This is so warm and snuggly and comforting and warm nights talking to your crush on the phone in the dark with Floyd on the turntable and even if you embarrassed yourself it was still the best conversation you've had all week._

It was 7:35, and Will sat across Hannibal during one of their regular appointments. Only there was nothing regular about this particular appointment. Over the past few weeks, both Will and Hannibal felt a shift occur in their relationship; this shift making itself painfully present.

Will felt it happen ever since the Tobias Budge incident; he and Hannibal had become closer in a different sort of way -- or maybe he was just imaging things? Hannibal knew this change was not imagined as he had orchestrated its conception. It was only a matter of time before Will saw it, for the first move had to come from Will. And so, Hannibal waited with patience, and worked his way slowly but surely, into Will’s heart.

Just last week, Will had called Hannibal, at night to chat. Sure, Will was high as a kite but how lovely to be the first person he thought of. Maybe even the only? The conversation had been charged, as both men opened up...

 _“What’s the craziest thing you did while high? My friend.”_

_“Well, I went skinny dipping.”_

_“I bet you looked nice.”_

_“Everyone is lovely in their youth.”_

_“I bet you were beautiful...still are.”_

_“Does pot always make you uninhibited, Will? Is this the high speaking, or you?”_

_“Me.”_

Of course, the moment Hannibal pushed, even slightly, Will retreated. And so, Hannibal continued to play the waiting game.

And now they sat, studying one another, smiling, until Will broke the silence. 

“I’d like to apologize for my behavior the other night.”

“There is no need. I am glad that you feel you can call me whenever you need to talk -- no matter the situation. As I’ve told you before, I am your paddle. I am here for you.”

Will smiled, “Well, I’m sure you weren’t picturing a stoned me, when you said that.”

Hannibal tilted his head; “You didn’t cross any lines -- if that is what you are worried about.”

“What? I...no, I mean,” Will stammered. “I wasn’t trying to cross any lines.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, good Will. No harm, no foul.”

Will furrowed his brow. Was this disappointment he was feeling? Was Hannibal kindly rejecting him? 

“So tell me, Will, how has work been going?”

**+++**

During his drive home, Will replayed the start of their session over and over again. _No harm, no foul_? He wasn’t the one that brought up skinny dipping, that was Hannibal. Shit, but _he_ was the one that had said Hannibal was beautiful. Goddamn it.

Will slapped the steering wheel feeling like a Grade A jerk. 

“Graham? What the hell are you doing? You called your therapist when you were high, you said he was beautiful, and now you’re disappointed he didn’t fawn all over you? Christ, you’re a Grade A jerk.”

Hold on, but _why_ was he disappointed Hannibal didn’t fawn all over him? The fuck?

He continued his drive to Wolf Trap in silence, mentally berating himself for all sorts of things -- many of which, he didn’t quite understand.

**+++**

The instant Will left the office, Hannibal walked over to sit in Will’s chair. The warmth of Will’s body still clung to it, as Hannibal sank in and sighed, gripping the armrests.

Had he gone too far, acting nonchalant over their telephone conversation? He often found himself taking two steps forward and an entire conga line back with Will.

He walked over to his liquor cabinet where he took out a bottle of Georges Latour cabernet sauvignon, uncorked it and immediately poured himself half a glass. Forget decanting. Hannibal swirled it around once and then drank it all in one gulp. Fuck it, tonight he’ll drink.

**+++**

_9:48 p.m._

Will was toweling off his hair, and shut the bathroom light when he heard the phone ring. He ran over to catch it and saw that it was Hannibal. His mouth quirked into a smile.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Will.”

“Doctor Lecter?”

“Professor Graham?”

Will scrunched up his face and smiled. “Okay? Hi. What’s going on?”

“We seem to ask that quite a bit of one another as of late, do we not?”

Will threw his towel on the chair in the corner of the room and plopped himself onto his bed. “I suppose so.”

“Why is that, William?”

“William? Well, now.”

Hannibal reclined on the chaise in his office, his shoes sat at the foot. His tie slung on the Eileen Gray side table, the top buttons of his shirt undone; his waistcoat and jacket on the nearby chair.

“Why are you calling? Not that I mind,” Will’s face blooming into a smile.

“Just wanted to repay the favor of your phone call from the other night,” Hannibal said with warmth in his voice.

“You're teasing me.”

“Not at all, William,” Hannibal said, resting his glass of wine on his chest.

There was something off about Hannibal’s voice. Not in a bad way, but Will could sense an extra something in the intonation. And then he understood, “Are you...have you been drinking?”

Hannibal smirked. His brilliant boy. “Not quite the same as calling you while high, but yes. I have been -- or rather am -- drinking.”

Will smiled and settled deeper into his bed, getting under the blankets, becoming comfier. “It’s almost 10,” Will said.

“Yes. Where are you?”

“I’m in bed...I had just gotten out of the shower, and was drying off just before you called.” Will then blushed realizing how suggestive it all sounded. Still, he didn’t seem to mind that it sounded that way.

“Oh,” was all Hannibal could reply. He bit his lower lip, not sure if he should say what he wanted to say at that moment. He was too tired to have to conga yet again.

“I’m at my office, still. It seems I’ve had too much wine to drive home, so I’m here until I feel I can drive again.”

“I’m glad you called. We can stay on as long as you’d like. All night if we need to.” Will chuckled, “This reminds me of being a kid, when you would call someone you liked and would stay on the phone talking to them all night.”

“Is that what this is?”

“Sure -- I mean, of course I like you. We’re friends.” He slapped his forehead. Christ, he sounded like a 12-year-old. “So what do you want to talk about? Art? Music? Politics? Religion?”

“It moves me, I adore it, not interested at this particular moment, and I am undecided,” Hannibal replied with sass.

“Well, that took all of five seconds.” Stanley began to jump on the bed seeing his master distracted; Will shooed him away. Then he heard Hannibal say, “Let’s talk about love, shall we?”

“Love?”

“Puppy love?” Hannibal countered.

“Puppy love?”

“William, will you be repeating everything I say?”

Will laughed, “I’m sorry. We’ve just...well, we’ve just never talked about this sort of stuff before.”

“As you’ve said, we’re friends aren’t we? Don’t _friends_ talk about this sort of thing? Have these sort of conversations?”

“I feel like we’re way past the ‘conversations’ stage, Hannibal.”

Hannibal hummed in agreement. 

“Alright, then,” Will said feeling bold. “Who was your first love? Or puppy love. Let’s go with your wording.”

“You first,” Hannibal said quickly.

“Me first. Okay. Well, her name was Stacey. We were both very shy. She had a bit of a lisp, which others teased her for but I thought it was cute. She wasn’t judgmental, and I appreciated that. She wasn’t very smart either, but she was kind and genuine.”

“Uncomplicated.”

“Yes,” Will said, “Exactly.” Will momentarily wandered off, recalling Stacey and her sweet, open face. _Will, you’re so beautiful. I don’t care what anyone says about you. You’re just so cute, and you really are sweet._ He smiled.

“And you?” Will asked, not sure he wanted to hear it.

“Her name was Elvire. We met at the boarding school. She was from Strasbourg, and was at the school while her family relocated to Paris for a few years. Her father was a journalist. Her mother a professor at the Sorbonne.”

“Elvire,” Will said, imaging a dark haired, pale young French girl with big, bright eyes -- all spunk and confidence.

Hannibal continued, “She was very smart. Too smart. We were both moody youths, and into existentialism.”

Will smiled, “Did you smoke Clove cigarettes and read Camus together?”

“Yes!” Hannibal laughed. “We would sit under a tree by the river, and she would talk about Camus -- and Albee, she loved Edward Albee. She’d smoke Clove cigarettes and would let me take a puff, while I read to her the plays of Albee, and short stories of Sherwood Anderson.” 

“Did you love her?” Will quietly asked.

“I suppose I did...in the sort of way a 16-year-old can love. I never told her I loved her.”

“Why not?” Will frowned, “Did she break up with you?”

“No,” Hannibal said softly. “She died in car crash. She was going back to Strasbourg for a long weekend, and her car was struck by another car on the autoroute. I was in class the morning she left, so I never really got to say goodbye.”

Hannibal stopped to remember the evening before Elvire departed for Strasbourg. She had snuck him into her room. Her roommate was already gone to see her family, so she had her dormitory all to herself.

“If anyone finds you here, we’ll both in be trouble,” she whispered.

Hannibal pressed kisses into her neck, “I think it will be worth it. I’ll leave before 6:00. No one will know I was here.”

She laughed as he began to nibble on her neck, and led Hannibal to her bed. “I’ll be back on Tuesday. I’ve already gotten an extension on my assignments from Professeur Merchant,” Elvire said as she lowered herself onto her bed.

Hannibal straddled Elvire, and paused to take in the sight of her. Her lips were damp and parted, as her eyes took in all of Hannibal. Hannibal had never seen anyone so lovely and free. Her dark curly hair framed her face, her blue eyes clear and bright.

“Will you call me when you arrive?” Hannibal asked, his heart beating wildly.

“Of course, you brilliant boy.”

Hannibal said softly, “I’ll miss you,” and then looked away.

She smiled and playfully slapped him on the chest, “I’ll be back on Tuesday. Don’t get all maudlin on me now.”

Elvire and Hannibal had kissed, many, many times but they had never gone all the way. Hannibal was not one to pressure her into doing anything she wasn’t ready for -- that was not his style.

As they kissed on Elvire’s bed, she stopped and said softly to Hannibal, “I would like to sleep with you tonight.”

Hannibal’s breath hitched as he swallowed dryly, and then nodded. Elvire began unbuttoning her blouse, and took his hand, placing it over her breast. And it was that evening that Hannibal Lecter lost his virginity. And the following day, he lost Elvire as well.

“I’m sorry,” Will said. He imagined a 16-year-old Hannibal, hearing the news that his first love, his first everything, had died. It filled him with a certain tenderness toward Hannibal. If Hannibal were next to him at this moment, Will would have reached out and stroked his hair.

Hannibal sighed, “And after Elvire, there was Aleksandr.”

“Aleksandr?” Will said, flustered but not surprised to hear both boys’ and girls’ names in Hannibal’s story.

“Yes, I met Aleksandr my last year at the boarding school. He had come from Russia to audition for the Paris Opera Ballet. Unlike Elvire, he was very aggressive. He made it clear that he wanted me. I hadn’t dated anyone since Elvire, but found his confidence quite alluring.”

All the _première_ and _terminale_ students had been invited to attend a small performance by Aleksandr at the school’s auditorium. It was Aleksandr’s “gift” to the school and means of introducing himself to the rest of the student body. It was there that Hannibal first saw Aleksandr dance. He sat in the front row and was mesmerized by the command Aleksandr held over his body. 

“His movements were incredible; his lines breathtaking really. I saw him dance, and the following day, we ran into each other in the courtyard. He said he saw me in the front row, and had danced just for me. It wasn’t long after that, that we were together.”

Will’s breathing grew shallow, as he pictured Hannibal caressed and handled by a young, strong dancer. The two, kissing -- and who knows what else -- without gentleness. No softness or kindness there, just raw want. 

Will cleared his throat, “Was he your first _boyfriend_?”

“Yes, and he made me realize that I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or girlfriend, per se -- merely someone I could make a connection with, whether it was emotional...or just carnal.”

Will swallowed, and then croaked out, “What happened with you two?”

“He returned to Russia to further his dance career. We had a few months -- intense and physical -- but there wasn’t the emotional connection I had with Elvire. The last I heard was that he had started his own dance company in Saint Petersburg.” 

Hannibal paused and then said with self-deprecating laughter, “I thought I was very cosmopolitan and bohemian falling for a writer _and_ a dancer. What about you, Will?”

“God, my first loves are boring compared to yours. I mean, Stacey worked at a Sunglass Hut in the mall after school.” Will laughed.

“Did she understand you?”

“Understand me?” Will huffed. “No. She tried...she really did. But no...I don’t think she could have ever understood me.”

“No boyfriends?” Hannibal asked.

“Nope,” Will replied immediately.

Will then asked with complete sincerity in his voice, “What do you look for in a potential mate?”

Hannibal paused to consider his reply to Will. He knew what his answer was, but what he should say to Will was a different matter altogether. 

“A brilliant mind. Excelling in something, anything -- but excelling. For Elvire it was the written word; for Aleks it was dance...And I want someone who sees me.”

Will and Hannibal were both silent for a moment. Then Hannibal added with a small laugh, “Of course, beauty doesn’t hurt. And you?”

“Understanding and acceptance. Is there a more powerful aphrodisiac than being understood, and still being wanted in spite of your flaws? Maybe even because of them?” Will then laughed, “And you’re right, beauty doesn’t hurt.” He was hit with a realization, “Wait a minute. Is your Aleks, Aleksandr Igorevich?”

Silence, then Hannibal replied, “Yes.”

Will shrieked, “ _The_ Aleksandr Igorevich? I’m basically a pleb and even _I've_ heard of him.”

Hannibal mumbled something that sounded like a _yes, that’s him_ as Will asked, “Do you keep in touch at all?”

“No, why would we?”

“I don’t know -- I mean, if you were dating. Didn’t his husband die in some freak accident a few years back?”

“Yes, I read about that. How terrible,” Hannibal smirked, recalling how easy it had been.

“So you really don’t keep in touch?”

“We were children, Will. And, he left me. Why would I want to give him additional chances to reject me? I would have to be an idiot to go back for more.”

Will felt an awkward silence begin to approach, which Hannibal thankfully intercepted. 

“So tell me more about Tracy working at, where was it? The Sunglass Shack?”

“Stacey...yeah. She may as well be blowing bubbles with a straw compared to your people.”

“My people?” Hannibal asked confused.

Will snorted, “Well, my past people are nowhere near as interesting as your people.”

“Will, if she was kind to you then what else matters? Also, _you_ are my people now.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

The two remained quiet for several moments.

**+++**

_12:30 a.m._

“Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Really?”

“Yes, that’s my favorite comfort food,” Hannibal said. “I roll the pasta from scratch, then make a veal and pork shoulder polpette with fennel --”

“Ah, there it is.”

“What?”

“It’s not spaghetti and meatballs, it’s veal and pork shoulder spheres of divinity.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“No, I love that about you.”

“You _love_ that about me?”

“Yes, your enthusiasm for food, for what you wear, where you live -- you don’t do things half-assed. You are totally...whole-assed!”

The two began to chuckle quietly, which then grew into a full belly laugh, each one finding delight in the sound of the other’s laughter. Will hugged his pillow tightly, as his mirth subsided. Hannibal exhaled as he looked up at the ceiling; his eyes slowly followed the lines of his curtains downward. And at that moment, Hannibal wished more than anything that he could have seen Will’s face as he laughed.

“Speaking of food, you didn’t have dinner, did you?”

“No, I’m afraid I did not.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“You don’t have anything there? You have all that wine, and nothing to go with it? Sad. I can feel your hunger through the phone, Hannibal.”

Hannibal rose from the chaise, “Fine, Professor Empath -- let’s see what we can find.” He walked over to the mini fridge tucked away inside a cabinet, and frowned when he found a bottle of mineral water, one lime and a tiny jar of chutney.

“Well?”

“I have one lime and a condiment.”

“Please tell me it’s Miracle Whip.”

“Miracle Whip?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh!”

“Yes?”

“I forgot, I have something in my desk.” Hannibal ran over and opened the drawer. In it sat a box from The Velvet Chocolatier, the gift note still attached:

>   
>  _Doctor Lecter,_
> 
> _Please enjoy this small treat from one of the my favorite shops -- next to José’s that is._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _FF_

Hannibal rolled his eyes and quietly gave thanks to that dullard, now in the great beyond. “Success, William! I have a box of chocolates.” 

“Hoorah!”

Hannibal jogged to the chaise and threw himself on it, box of chocolates on his chest. He popped one in his mouth.

“Mmm…”

“Good, is it?” 

“It’s not the best, but when one is hungry anything will do.”

“That’s for sure! And believe me, I speak from experience.”

“As do I,” Hannibal replied, licking chocolate from the corners of his mouth.

“How is that possible?” Will asked, sitting up in bed. He had assumed Hannibal had always been well off. A count, living in a castle, boarding school in Paris, Johns Hopkins -- none of those things screamed hardship to Will.

“Well, after my parents and sister...died, I was sent to an orphanage. My uncle could not be found -- or perhaps did not want to be found -- so there I was for several years.”

This was the first Will was hearing of it; his heart clenched.

“And it wasn’t the best of orphanages. When we had two full meals, those were good days.” 

“Hannibal...I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Hannibal paused to eat another chocolate. He took one and bit it in half, the caramel oozing reminded him of a chest being cracked opened; ribs spread, blood pouring out. He plunged his tongue into the center of the chocolate, creating a small indentation.

“It’s fine. Those years, well, they formed who I am now. Nothing happened to me….I happened.”

Will closed his eyes and saw a small thin boy, quiet -- so quiet -- but always observing with dark eyes. Asleep in bed at night, curled up into a ball waiting...waiting for something. And all Will wanted to do was reach out to him.

Hannibal’s voice brought him back to the present, “Is fish your favorite thing to eat?”

“Fish?” Will smiled, “No, I love to fish but my favorite thing to eat isn’t fish.”

“What is it? I will make it for you -- whatever it is.”

“Whatever it is?”

“Yes.”

“What if it’s tater tot casserole?”

“I...don’t have the faintest idea what that is.”

Will laughed. “Actually, it’s roasted chicken with mashed potatoes.”

“A simple classic. Do you know what the secret to my roasted chicken is? I place pats of butter under the skin.”

“Oooo…”

“And I fill the cavity with blood oranges, lemons and thyme. You have to make sure the cavity is nice and full. I shove as much as I can in there.”

“Well that just sounds...pornographic.” 

They both laughed.

“No, the citrus and thyme then infuse the chicken,” Hannibal continued, laughing still.

**+++**

_3:14 a.m._

“So I really don’t have very many memories of my mother, but that one always remains clear.”

There was no reply coming from the other end. Will was afraid he might have over shared, and was feeling very self-conscious.

“Hannibal?”

The tiniest of snores was then heard.

“Hannibal?”

Will smiled when he realized Hannibal had fallen asleep. Will remained quiet and listened to Hannibal sleep. His breathing becoming a metronome for Will. He pictured Hannibal kissing Elvire, kissing Aleksandr, as a young boy eating a slice of bread, roasting a chicken for Will...smiling at Will. And then Will closed his eyes, and soon he was asleep.

**+++**

_3:40 a.m._

“Will?”

Will woke with a jolt, phone still tightly gripped in his hand, “Jesus, are we still here?”

Hannibal stretched out, and smiled. “It would appear so. Would you like to hang up?”

Will rubbed his eye, and glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, “No, I’m good. Unless you’d like to? You can’t be very comfortable in your office.”

“I’m on the chaise, I have a pillow, a throw. I’m fine.”

“Does it...bother you at all, being there?”

“Bother me? No. Why would it bother -- oh, are you referring to Tobias Budge?”

Will recalled walking up the steps to Hannibal’s office, knowing that someone had died. The immense tightness in his chest, as he approached the door and saw two body bags on the floor was unexpected. Was Hannibal gone? And if he was, it was all Will’s fault.

The flood of relief that washed upon Will, as he saw Hannibal sitting in the middle of the office startled him.

“You almost died there…” Will whispered.

“I lived...and until you walked in…” Hannibal paused.

“Until I walked in, what?”

“Until you walked in, I thought you were dead. I -- it was self-defense, but I was so angry because I thought you were dead.”

That shouldn’t have made Will smile, but god help him, it did.

**+++**

When Hannibal woke, he still had his phone in his hand. The line was dead. 5:45 a.m. He got up slowly, wondering what Will would make of what just happened. He had been so close to telling him how he felt throughout the night. But, no, he was glad he held back -- or at least he hoped he did. Parts of the evening were fuzzy. He sighed and stretched as he made his way to the powder room.

When Hannibal walked outside, he truly was surprised to find Will sitting on the front steps. He had two cups of coffee in a carrier and a paper bag on the step next to him.

“Will?”

“Morning,” he said as he smiled and stood up, offering Hannibal one of the cups. 

Hannibal returned the smile, took the coffee, then asked softly, “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to make sure you made it through the rest of the night,” Will said with a shrug. 

“How long have you been out here?”

“About 30 minutes. I’ve been watching the sunrise. Sorry, your coffee is lukewarm.”

“It’s perfect,” Hannibal said, as he stood closer to Will both staring into each other’s eyes. Will leaned in closer, and for a moment, they both remained perfectly still, facing one another, not saying a word.

Hannibal felt they were on the precipice. Almost there -- but not quite -- so near, he could practically taste Will’s lips on his, even though they were a foot apart. Soon. 

Hannibal cleared his throat, “What’s in the bag?”

Will blinked a few times, “Oh, do you like doughnuts? Who doesn’t like doughnuts? I stopped at the Donut Shack and got you a honey-dipped doughnut.”

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal said as he took the bag from him, their fingers grazing slightly.

“I figured you would be starving this morning without dinner,” Will mumbled. “So...I should get going. You probably want to get home and shower and all that, I don’t --- “

“Come home with me,” Hannibal said quickly. “I will make us breakfast.”

Will wanted to have breakfast with Hannibal more than anything. Christ, he drove all this way at the ass crack of dawn just to buy the man a doughnut. Still something was holding him back. For an empath, Will knew he was truly shit at deciphering his own feelings.

“No, I -- I should go. I have class later, and I should get a jump on traffic.”

“Oh...very well.”

“Thanks for last night. It was fun, Hannibal.” Will smiled and brushed Hannibal’s arm with his hand. He then walked down the stairs and got into his Volvo. With one quick wave, he pulled out of the parking spot and left.

Hannibal took a bite of the doughnut, as he watched Will drive away. The sweetness on his lips staying with him, long after Will was out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Devereauxs_Disease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/chronicopheliac) for her comments and support with this.
> 
> Come say hi and visit me [on Tumblr](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/).


End file.
